Jane Something
by et voila 1312
Summary: Another day, another case at the CBI, more paperwork for Lisbon. Only now she has someone to help her, so things should get easier! But when Patrick Jane is involved, nothing ever goes smoothly... K for some lang. !NOW COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N**-I intended this to be a short, one-shot, but it kinda got out of its leash and took off! It'll probably be a 3 or 4-chapter deal, and I'll add on depending on the response.

**Disclaimer**-Nope. Cassie, yes.

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The Mentalist

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Jane Something

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Lisbon sighed, signing her name to and tossing aside another complaint form against her consultant. She shook her head wearily, thinking how Patrick Jane could add another title to his CBI resume (aside from "pain-in-the-ass"): "bane of Lisbon's existence". When she wasn't busy (literally) chasing down bad guys, or kissing political or financial ass, she was doing damage control, which aside from her duties as senior agent, had become, in itself, a full-time job. Between refereeing when he insulted rich bigwigs or grieving spouses-turned-suspects, and taking the fall every time he misbehaved, Teresa was seriously stressed-out and, judging from the ever-present, and ever-growing piles of Jane-incurred paperwork on her desk every day, her stress levels didn't look to be decreasing any time soon. Sighing, she picked up another handful, and silently perused their contents.

-"Consultant Jane referred to man's recently deceased wife as a gold-digging whore (alluded), simply to test husband's reaction, and had to be ordered out of the room when the husband tried to punch Jane."

-"CBI consultant Jane was caught snooping through home of interviewee, and was later discovered by Agent Lisbon to have stolen evidence from the home, thus resulting in the case being temporarily dismissed."

-"Jane purposefully made highly suggestive comments, thus starting rampant rumors, about a highly regarded kindergarten teacher at Chapel Ridge Elementary School, seriously damaging this teacher's reputation, again, simply to cause disruptions/suspicion among the staff, and flush out potential suspects in a child murder case."

-"Consultant Jane switched almost $250,000 of gangster's money with fake bills…"

-"Jane hypnotized suspect into giving confession…"

-"Jane rigged GPS in company SUV…"

-"Jane tricked federal officials…"

-"Jane lied…"

-"Jane manipulated …"

-"Jane stole…"

Lisbon tossed the files back on her desk with a disgusted huff. Every complaint was the same thing; it was the same song, just with slightly different lyrics. This was _not_ how she'd envisioned her career working out. She was a cop, a CBI Senior Agent, a team leader: a freaking baby-sitter was more like it, and her charge was an irritating, immature, extremely brilliant yet arrogant-to-the-nth-degree 40-year-old toddler, who gave no thought to the chaos his behavior caused, and even less thought to the never-ending extra work it caused _her_.

She read through, and signed another one, then placed it in the 'finished' pile.

"I spent my formative years raising my brothers, Jane," she muttered quietly. "I'll be damned if I'm gonna spend my entire career raising _you_ to maturity. I'll be on my deathbed and _still_ trying."

She glanced out into the bullpen, and saw the source of her aggravation, lying comfortably on his leather couch, fingers laced across his chest, his face smooth and relaxed in the guise of sleep. She had half a mind to go over there and smack him upside the head, or at least make _him_ deal with the formal complaints; they were about him, after all. But she couldn't do that; _she_ was the Boss, he was her responsibility, and it was her job to field all complaints against him. She understood that, but dammit, did he have to rack up so many?

It's not like he didn't know how to behave; he could help make her job a little easier if he chose. But she knew that he neither cared what people thought of him (or made a good show of it), nor how difficult it made things for her (or so it seemed). He was _Jane_; they needed him, and he knew it. So here she was, Senior Agent Lisbon, swimming in Jane-complaints.

Suddenly the door swung open and the man himself breezed in and unceremoniously dropped onto her couch, taking the same relaxed, oblivious position he'd been in before.

"Hope you, aawwww-huuuhh," he drawled through a yawn, "don't mind me napping in here, Lisbon. It's just getting _much_ too noisy out there."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm terribly sorry our hard-working, state agents are distracting you," she replied. He murmured a non-committal, and unintelligible reply, then went quiet. She regarded him for a moment.

"Was there something you needed, Jane?"

"Just a quiet spot in which to nap. It's usually very quiet in here, very peaceful," he murmured, not bothering to open his eyes. "Don't you have some _paperwork_ or something to do?" he asked, and she didn't fail to notice the faint smirk he wore, even in 'sleep'. Oh, he had some nerve.

She bit back a retort, settling instead for simply glowering at him and tapping her pen on the desk.

"Lisbon, my dear, as pleasant as I'm sure I am to stare at," he said smugly, his voice slurring slightly, "best get to work. All those pesky complaints aren't going to answer themselves."

Now she wanted to throw something at him, something heavy.

"If you're so concerned about my workload, Jane," she began, not bothering to keep the sarcasm from her voice, "why don't _you_ come do some of these?"

"Meh," he answered drowsily, still not bothering to open his eyes. "You know I'm not really into doing paperwork."

She snorted softly. "Sure, you can't be bothered to _do_ it, but you have no problem _creating_ it."

"Hmmmm," he hummed absently. Knowing that that was all she'd get out of him, Lisbon just shook her head, sighed inaudibly, and got back to work.

The next day began pretty much the way it usually did: in the morning the team headed out on a case, Jane poked around the crime scene, sniffing around for clues, and the body, and eventually contributed _his_ two unique cents, pissing off two of the local PD who had called the CBI there in the first place. After sending the others back to HQ with their orders to look into the victim's background, she and Jane went to interview the victim's family, during which he asked a couple of _his_ own questions, inevitably offending and angering the victim's mother and teenaged daughter.

After apologizing profusely for her colleague's unprofessionalism, and pushing an 'apologetic' Jane out the door, they too headed back, complete with a couple of fresh leads, and promises of several new complaints against the rude consultant.

Back at the office, Lisbon heard updates on what they'd learned so far.

"So, so far we know the victim was a middle-aged businessman whom everyone liked, who had no enemies, paid his taxes, and even gave to charity," Lisbon summarized sourly what she'd heard.

"Pretty much," Cho confirmed, his voice betraying his own disappointment.

"Why so grumpy, Lisbon?" Jane chimed in. He'd been sitting quietly on his couch, seemingly lost in thought since they'd got back, but now spoke up, curious as to why she'd be so melancholy about their latest victim.

"For once your unfortunate dead man isn't a lying, cheating, scum-sucking criminal hiding the proverbial secret wife and a sock-drawer full of stolen money. Well," he shrugged, "that you know of. The dearly departed Mr. Zaffora was a good boy; an all-American, regular Joe who no doubt coached his kids' little league games every weekend, who played nicely with others and obeyed the rules; just the way you like them. So why so glum?"

"Too clean, no motive," Cho answered automatically.

Lisbon nodded. "Exactly. The cleaner the victim, the harder it is to find a motive," she sighed.

"Ah, I see. So you'd rather have a _bad_ dead person, because that would make your job easier?" he asked rhetorically, nodding in understanding.

Lisbon blushed, quickly opening and closing her mouth. Rigsby cleared his throat in discomfort and averted his eyes, while van Pelt aimed a mildly annoyed look at Jane for his asinine remark. Cho showed no reaction, other than to purse his lips slightly.

"That…no…that's not what I meant," Lisbon stuttered, momentarily baited. She quickly recovered though. "No matter who the victim is, or how simple or straightforward a case may start, my job is never _easy_," she glared pointedly at Jane, who wore an innocent 'whatever you say' expression.

"Aside from everything else, I also have to deal with all the paperwork a case generates. This one's barely a day old, and already I've got a stack of complaints on my desk fifteen thick!"

"Meh, being Senior Agent's tough," Jane dismissed, shifting to lie back fully on the couch. "Suck it up."

Lisbon just shot him a dirty look, then turned and stalked to her office, leaving the bullpen to its regular activity.

"Your mouth's gonna get you shot one of these days, you know," Cho commented, not even bothering to look up from his own work.

"I appreciate the warning, Cho," Jane thanked him kindly. "I'm touched by your concern for my safety."

"Not a warning: it was a statement of fact," Cho retorted in a monotone. "I just hope I'm there to see it," he muttered under his breath, not knowing, or caring if Jane heard him. If Jane did, he made no response.

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><p>After about three-and-a-half hours, Lisbon was almost finished with the last batch of files from their previous case. From the corner of her eye she had watched agent after agent leave on their way to lunch, wishing she could wave a magic wand and finish all this stuff in one sweep. She hadn't even gotten to the stuff from that morning! She'd been ignoring her increasingly loud stomach rumblings as long as she could, but now conceded that she, too, needed to eat. She left open the file she was currently working on, grabbed her wallet, phone, and keys, locked her office, and headed out.<p>

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><p>Returning about an hour later, Lisbon went to unlock her office door, only to find it was already open. Frowning slightly, she pushed it open, and stopped short a couple feet from her desk. Her bare desk. Well, not exactly. Everything was still there: her computer, her laptop, the photos of her brothers and her dog, her new stapler. What was missing, she realized, were the neatly arranged, loathed stacks of paperwork which had seemed to start sprouting, weed-like, on her desk over the last two years or so. Her eyes darted around the room, but nothing else was out of order.<p>

She started for the bullpen, to demand to know who the _hell_ had been in her office, moving, and possibly _hiding_ stuff, her thoughts immediately going to Jane: _this time, she silently growled, I __**am**__ going to shoot him, I never thought he'd sneak, __**break,**__ in there when I wasn't here!_ but her inner tirade was cut short by Agent Minelli, who was coming down the hall towards her.

"Lisbon, there you are! I'm glad I caught you…" he began.

"I'm sorry, sir, can this wait? Someone's been in my office," she interrupted hurriedly. _A blonde, vest-wearing, __**presumptuous**__ someone…_

He lifted a hand to stop her.

"No, no, Lisbon, that was me," he explained. "I went into your office while you were at lunch."

She blinked, her green eyes widening in surprise.

"You…" she echoed awkwardly.

He nodded. "Yes, we, or rather, I, wanted to have it all moved before you got back so you could focus on only the paperwork relating to the case," he said, and grinned like that simple statement explained everything.

After a beat, she shook her head slowly.

"I'm sorry, sir, but, what are you talking about? Who's 'we'? Have _what_ moved out?"

"Oh, I'm so sorry! This must be so confusing for you, this whole thing happened so fast…" he trailed off. "Lisbon, there's someone I'd like you to meet," he said, and only then did Teresa notice the young woman standing quietly, patiently off to the side. He gestured to her, and she stepped forward.

"This is Cassie Dolinsky, she just joined the CBI…today. Ms. Dolinsky, this is Agent Teresa Lisbon."

The girl held out her hand, which Lisbon took.

"It's nice to meet you Agent Lisbon," Cassie began pleasantly. "I'm glad to be here, if doing my job will make yours a little easier. I hope I'll be very helpful to you," she smiled. "If what Agent Minelli has told me, I _will_," she added cryptically.

"It's nice to meet you too, Ms. Dolinsky," Lisbon smiled, albeit confusedly. "What exactly is your job? Am I getting a new agent?" she asked Minelli.

"Please, call me Cassie," the young woman offered. "Oh, no, I'm not an Agent, Ms. Lisbon. I'm your new assistant."

"Assistant?" Lisbon repeated hesitantly, a tiny ripple of fear passing through her. Was the Bureau starting to question her competency if they were sending her a _secretary_?

"Yes," Minelli cut in. "I've taken into consideration the abundance of extra paperwork you often have to deal with, in addition to the normal work that goes with a case, and thought an assistant might be useful in divvying up some of it. The Director agreed, so we hired Ms. Dolinsky here as SCU Unit Assistant."

"I'll be handling your employee complaints."

With that statement, Lisbon's confusion cleared, and she grinned, a pleased, relieved smile. Her complaint files, huh? Out of all of her people, there was only _one_ individual against whom so many complaints were lodged on nearly _every_ case. And now, they would all be someone else's problem? Teresa's grin widened.

"Welcome to the Unit," she now greeted sincerely. "I'm glad to have you."

"Thank you," Cassie replied cheerfully.

"Well, now that you two have met," Minelli said, "I'll let you get back to work. Lisbon, I'll need an update on the Zaffora case this afternoon."

"Yes, sir."

"Ladies," he finished gentlemanly, and left.

"Yes, I need to be getting back," the younger woman agreed. "Again, nice to meet you, Agent Lisbon. I'll drop by later," she said, and also left, heading back down the hall, disappearing around the corner.

Lisbon remained there for a couple seconds more, stunned at what just happened, then walked back into her office, to her now _complaint_-_free_ desk, and resumed working on the files for the _case_.

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><p>Please review; they're my reason for getting up in the morning!<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

Jane was casually strolling the halls after lunch, when he passed Lisbon's office. Studying her through the blinds, he immediately noticed there was something different about her. Perhaps to the casual eye she appeared to be hard at work as always, looking through the contents of one of the many manila folders that had become a regular feature of her desk. But to Patrick Jane's sharp, ever-observant gaze, there were now a score of differences: although she was leaning forward, her forearms resting on the desk as she worked, her shoulders weren't hunched over, nor were the muscles bunching together. Slipping quietly into the room, hands in his jacket pockets, he also noticed that the little stress line between her eyebrows was gone, leaving her beautiful face smooth and youthful, and she wasn't grumbling to herself or clenching her jaw.

Most noticeable, however, was the glaring absence of the stacks of files, and upon a closer look, he realized that even as she worked, she actually seemed to be enjoying herself.

He took his usual place on the sofa, and let his eyes slide to not-quite-shut, listening absently to her work. After a couple of minutes, she chuckled to herself, a very soft, throaty hum, and through his half-closed eyes he saw a hint of a smile tugging at her lips.

"Something funny, my dear?"

"Hmm? Oh, no. Not really," she replied a bit distractedly, though the small smile remained. She continued to work, and after a couple more minutes he heard that low, almost silent chuckle again as she laughed to herself, and her smile grew a fraction.

Now his blue eyes opened fully. "I wasn't aware the complaints against me were so amusing."

"Ohhh, I'm not doing complaint files, Jane," she stated easily, a touch of laughter coloring her voice. "Actually, I'm doing some mid-year performance evals," she said, not looking up.

"And those you _do_ enjoy?" he probed, always eager to know more about her, no matter how trivial.

"Mm-hmm," was her only response, then she went quiet again.

Jane also remained silent, leaving Lisbon to her _other_ work, his brain processing this new bundle of information. Lisbon was _still_ at her desk, still working, so not everything had changed, but _something_ had shifted; the differences were practically screaming at him now.

Her body language, while still professional, was definitely more relaxed, her line-free face definitely softer, lovelier than before…were her eyes actually sparkling more? And yes, he decided, her desk _was_ less cluttered. She'd just said she wasn't doing complaints right now; was she not doing them at _all_ anymore? And if _she_ wasn't, who was? He wasn't sure he liked the idea of someone besides Lisbon doing 'Jane-complaints'; what if whoever _was_ reading them didn't get him, like Lisbon did?

Jane frowned. All these unknowns were making him feel very…disconcerted, unsettled. That wouldn't do, he decided, so he swiftly got up from the couch.

"Time for a cup of tea," he announced as he walked out the door, not bothering to wait for Lisbon's reply.

Jane made his way down the hall to the kitchenette. Walking in, he saw it was empty save for a young woman he'd never seen before at CBI, sitting in the corner, an elbow on the table, resting her jaw in her palm. She was pretty, but unremarkable: early to mid-twenties, around five-foot-six, a long-sleeve charcoal turtleneck and knee-length leather skirt adorning her slender figure. A pair of high-quality imitation leather boots completed the attempt-at-looking-expensive-on-minimum-wage look. Lightly streaked, glossy dark hair was pulled up into a high, sporty ponytail, a fringe falling in wisps in front. She paid him no attention as he walked to the counter.

As he waited for the water to boil, and picked out a flavor to calm his unpleasantly-jangled nerves, he replayed the last few minutes in Lisbon's office. He was interrupted briefly when the kettle whistled. Picking up his tea, he approached the table.

"Hello," he said politely. "Do you mind if I sit here?"

She smiled prettily, though not flirtatiously. "Not at all."

He smiled back. "I hope you don't mind my intrusion, it's just that I know most of the faces around here; I don't recall having seen you before."

"Oh," she exhaled in relief, "I don't mind at all. Actually, I could use the break. I had no idea this job was going to be so mentally taxing." She reached for the coffee mug steaming a few inches from her hand and took a long sip.

"What job is that?"

She finished her sip and replaced the mug.

"Well," she began, "officially I am the 'SCU Unit Assistant'," she declared. "I'm sort of a pseudo-secretary; I don't get coffee, and I don't take memos," she explained, with a hint of self-deprecation.

"I wasn't aware the SCU had a secretary," Jane said.

"They didn't, until recently," she replied. "I'm pretty sure it's a new position."

"Ah, I see."

"I'm sorry. I'm Cassie, Cassie Dolinsky," she held out her hand. Jane reached across the table and shook it courteously.

"Nice to meet you," he replied. "Welcome to CBI."

"Actually, I was hired as secretary for this particular unit only. To be more specific I was hired as assistant to the team leader, Agent Lisbon; Agent Minelli thought it might be beneficial to split up her workload, which," she indicated the not-so-small stacks of files surrounding her at the small table, "as you can see, is quite heavy," she chuckled.

His brows rose in comprehension as one aspect of the troublesome mystery was answered, but he showed no other reaction.

"Well, that was very thoughtful of Agent Minelli," he commented diplomatically. Jane wondered why Virgil would bring in a civilian temp to do Lisbon's work. It irked him slightly; for one thing, Lisbon wouldn't be nearly as grumpy anymore with the decreased stress (and an un-grumpy Lisbon wasn't nearly as fun to tease), and second, the quiet sound of Lisbon working, and occasionally muttering to herself, was one of the few soothing, comforting sounds in his world. And now it wouldn't be there anymore? Yes, very irksome.

"Thoughtful, nothing!" she retorted with a small laugh. "Most of what I've been assigned to handle has to do with one of Agent Lisbon's team, a very obnoxious, unpleasant woman from the looks of it."

"Oh, really?" Jane prompted, curiosity lifting an eyebrow. He might have thought of Grace as idealistic maybe, naïve in the extreme, yes, certainly considering her devout belief in afterlives and séances, but he'd never thought of her as _obnoxious_. To Jane, she was pleasantly, amusingly gullible.

"Who might that be?" he asked, lifting his tea to his lips and taking a sip.

"I don't know, Jane something," she answered, reaching for another file. "There's no mention of a last name. It just says 'Jane'."

Working intently to suppress the choking reflex, Patrick called on every biofeedback trick he had to keep from reacting in any strange or telling way. He calmly continued sipping his tea, careful to give nothing away. Deliberately breathing in and out, he maintained his neutral curious expression as he held his teacup.

When he said nothing else, Cassie took that as an invitation to continue.

"Seriously, I don't know how this woman _got_ or managed to _keep_ her job here; I only just started late this morning, but I've already read through _twenty_ or so complaints against her," she looked at Jane directly in emphasis. "And those were just from the last three days!" she exclaimed.

"Goodness," Jane replied seriously. "Twenty, huh? Is that bad?" He didn't think so; he actually though he'd been behaving quite well that week.

Cassie regarded him from beneath her lashes.

"I think it isn't _good_," she opined. She shook her head. "But it's not just the sheer _number_ of complaints; it's the outrageous _stuff_ this…Jane does. Listen to this," she flipped open one file.

"'Jane was disrespectful and insulting towards wealthy husband of murdered woman'," she recited, then set it down. She then picked up another one.

"'Jane tricked victim's sister into thinking _she_ was a suspect in his murder, simply to gauge reaction'…'Consultant Jane switched nearly a quarter million dollars of gangster's money'…'Jane provoked one sibling into turning in the other, again, to test reaction, knowing neither was actually guilty'…'Jane picked the lock of missing woman's front door even though it was a crime scene'…" she trailed off.

"I could go on, but they are all pretty much the same thing; Jane routinely lies to suspects, victims' families, _other_ _police_, she antagonizes rich people, presumably for no other reason than a cheap thrill," Cassie shook her head. "For just a _consultant_, Jane seems to use the CBI as her own personal playground," she said disdainfully.

"That sounds terribly childish, and unprofessional," Jane remarked in disapproval.

"It is, it's very childish," Cassie agreed. "It's not just the people they investigate or interview whom she messes with; there are complaints here from other agents! And not just Agent Lisbon's people, either; Jane seems to take great delight in being, well, a 'prankster', or the 'class clown'." She took a breath and let it out.

"She steals from agents' desks, among other things, their phones, their food, she constantly switches the coffee over there," she nodded towards the counter, "pouring half of the regular into the decaf and vice-versa, and she sometimes switches the coffee bags with tea, which apparently no one but she drinks, just to watch peoples' reactions."

"Mm, mm, mm," Jane shook his head.

"Also, she doesn't limit herself to childish pranks, unfortunately," Cassie lamented. "According to some of these, she messes with people's heads too. All the time."

"Really? How?"

"Well, judging from what I've read, Jane is _extremely_ intelligent, freakishly so. Seems she used to have a career as some sort of clairvoyant or psychic, and now she uses mind tricks, reverse psychology, even _hypnosis_!" she laughed in disbelief. "On her co-workers! State agents! Can you believe that?"

"Shameful," he said, taking another sip. "Unconscionable."

"Tell me about it. Like I said, I can't believe this woman is able to keep her job as a consultant to _law_-_enforcement_. How she has managed to not get fired or…or _shot_ is…" she trailed off.

"A mystery," Jane supplied helpfully.

"Exactly. I promise you one thing, though: when I finally meet this Jane," Cassie said disdainfully, "I might just have to give her a piece of my mind," she declared, reaching for her coffee mug and draining it.

"I'll tell you something else, too. I don't care how smart she is, or even if she's, you know," she tapped her head conspiratorially. "She is _not_ going to play any mind games with me or trick or manipulate me! You can bet on that."

Cassie then looked at her watch.

"I have to be getting back; I'm sure Agent Lisbon will have received a whole new stack of complaints for me." She stood and gathered her stuff from the table.

"Yes, back to the salt mines," Jane said amiably. "I'm sure you'll do fine here, Cassie. You seem like a very bright, astute young woman. Agent Lisbon is lucky to have you helping her."

"Thank you. I'm happy to be able to. She certainly looks like she needs it, with her consultant running amok. Well, it was nice talking to you; I'm sure we'll run into each other again," she smiled, and headed out of the kitchenette.

"Hmm, no doubt," Jane said politely over his shoulder. He sat there a moment after Cassie left, then got up to refresh his empty cup. Fresh tea in hand, he retreated back to his leather couch. He mulled rewinding his steps back to the white couch; after all, wasn't a relaxed, happy, _smiling_ Lisbon preferable to a grouchy, irritated, blunt object-heaving Lisbon?

Logic certainly dictated as much. Logically, he should be pleased as punch that his boss's workload would now be significantly lighter, that no longer would she be constantly bombarded with paperwork that said "Complaint against Patrick Jane" on it. She would be less privy to the fruits of his schemes, and as a result would be less tempted to kick his couch, whack him in the arm, or tweak or punch him in the nose anytime in the future. Yes, Teresa Lisbon would now have _less_ of _his_ mess to deal with, leaving her more time to devote to her 'actual job', as she, no doubt, would eloquently put it; maybe even pursue a life outside the office. Yes, logically, a more relaxed, less tightly-wound Lisbon would certainly make for a more productive unit.

But sinking back onto his couch, the unpleasant disquiet of the office now little more than a distant buzz, he immediately dismissed _that_ idea; they _already_ closed more cases than anyone else, thanks to him. And as for logic? Well, no one had ever accused Patrick Jane of thinking _or_ behaving so; as selfish as it may be, a calmer, more laid-back Lisbon would be _bor_-_ring_. So, staring at the ceiling, he began planning, hatching a nice, clandestine little plan to keep Lisbon, and therefore the office, just the way she was.

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><p>Reviews are the air that I breathe!<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N**-If you didn't notice in the revised summary, please note that I added a little to the end of Ch. 2; please read that before you start here!

_thank you, kimmers44 and vanrigsby, for your reviews! Grace, I think you're going to __**love**__ this part! I'm getting you there, I promise!_

x

Lisbon took a break in her review of the Zaffora case file to indulge in a deep, relaxing stretch. Raising her arms to her sides, she arched her back, rolling her head over her shoulders, hearing several satisfying cracks, then lifted them over her head, wiggling her fingers. Lowering them, she took a deep, cleansing breath, savoring the faint scent of her 'clean laundry' air freshener. Her circulation re-stimulated, she picked up her pen again. After a moment, there was a knock at her door.

"Come in," Lisbon called.

The door swung open and Cassie appeared.

"Agent Lisbon? I have some more forms here that just need your signature, and then I can take them to Agent Minelli," she stated, smiling.

Lisbon smiled in return.

"Sure, Cassie, come on in, have a seat," she welcomed her. She reached for the stack of folders the girl held, which Cassie placed neatly on the desk. "So, how's it been going so far?" Lisbon inquired as she started signing. "Have you had a chance to meet and get acquainted with the team?" She lowered her eyes to focus on her task.

"Mm-hm," Cassie nodded. "Agents Rigsby and Van Pelt were very nice; he was very polite and a gentleman, and Miss Van Pelt said I reminded her a bit of her sister back home," she smiled, but sobered quickly. "Agent Cho was courteous, professional, but sorta standoff-ish." She lowered her voice slightly. "Truth is he kinda scared me a little," she blushed at the confession.

Lisbon chuckled in sympathy at the girl's initial impression of the stone-faced agent.

"Uh, yeah," she hedged. "I can see how he might come across as a little, er," she scrambled for a word to describe Cho, "menacing."

Cassie smiled sheepishly, glad her boss saw it too.

"Don't let his manner fool you, though," Teresa hastily reassured her. "Cho is a very nice man, even funny once you get to know him. He's simply pragmatic, and economical with his words. Don't tell anyone, especially him, I said this, but he's really a closet pussycat."

The young woman's eyes widened, and she exhaled in relief.

"That's good to know! And I won't, to both," she promised.

"I hope my consultant has at least been civil to you," Teresa remarked neutrally. She suppressed a shudder imagining the 'welcome' poor, unsuspecting Cassie must have received from Jane.

"Oh, you mean Jane?"

Their eyes met in shared understanding at the name's mention.

"Well, no. I mean, that is, we haven't met yet, which is weird; I thought I _would_ have by now. Does she not have a desk in the office along with the other agents? Does she work _out_ of the office, like strictly from home, or something? How _does_ being a consultant here work?"

Lisbon shook her head absently. "No, Jane works here, in the office, usually driving me crazy, or being a slouch out on the-" Lisbon blinked, her words screeching to a halt in her throat, as she mentally played back Cassie's question. She looked back up at her assistant.

"I'm sorry, Cassie. Did you just ask if Jane works out of…_her_…home?" she asked slowly.

Cassie nodded tightly, wondering at her boss's sudden change in demeanor.

"You _did_ say you've met the team, right?" Lisbon confirmed.

"Yes, ma'am."

"But you haven't met Jane?" she repeated.

Cassie shook her head. "Well, actually I haven't really spent a lot of time with your agents, y'know, since I basically jumped right to work. In fact, the only person I've met at length was a man in the lounge that afternoon: um, blonde, wavy hair, not _that_ tall, maybe five-seven, five-eight, wearing a grey suit."

Lisbon went rigid, the hand holding her pen freezing in mid-sign. She could feel heat flooding her face, felt her breathing speed up until she was _sure_ she resembled a raging bull, and wondered dimly if there was steam coming out of her ears, and she unconsciously gripped her pen so hard she felt it crack against her palm. It had been worse than she'd envisioned, Teresa realized, her assistant's first exposure to Patrick Jane.

She closed her eyes to shield the girl from the fury building in her eyes; no sense in frightening _her_, after all, none of this was _her_ fault. '_That_ _unbelievable_, _devious_, _conniving_, _son_-_of_-_a_-_!_' she silently fumed. Her brain couldn't think up enough things to call him. Finally, after a moment, she opened her eyes to find the young woman guardedly watching her.

"Cassie, would, you, uh, come with me, please?" she asked softly, doing her damndest to keep her voice steady.

"Sure. Is there a problem?"

"There's someone I'd like you to meet," Lisbon said, '_again_,' she growled internally, her ire growing with each passing second.

The young woman followed Lisbon out of the office and into the bullpen, past the agents working at their respective desks, and was surprised to see the man she'd spoken with in the break room, asleep on an old couch in the corner.

Lisbon walked straight to the leather couch where Jane lay, jacket off, hands laced behind his curly head, basking in the late afternoon sun like a contented cat. She was sorely tempted to smack said head.

"Jane, wake up," she snarled.

Cassie frowned in confusion.

"Hmmm, hello Lisbon," he murmured sleepily, slowly 'waking'. "What can I do for you this lovely afternoon?" He then noticed Cassie standing beside, just slightly behind her.

"Oh, Cassie! Nice to see you again. How was your first day as Lisbon's Girl Friday?" He lifted himself into a sitting position, crossing his legs casually, and regarded both women pleasantly.

Cassie's confusion visibly increased. "It was-I mean, I…uh-"

"Give me _one_ good reason why I shouldn't beat you senseless with my Glock!" Lisbon demanded.

"Really, Lisbon, such hostility!" he chastised, shaking his head in disappointment. "I can see those anger-management classes didn't take. Such a shame, too; you were doing so well!" he smiled patronizingly.

She just glared at him in disgust, her cheeks blazing and her eyes glittering.

"I could give you several reasons not to, but, really, why on earth would you want to beat me with your gun at all?" he queried innocently, enjoying immensely the bloom of color in her cheeks. He knew he probably shouldn't have continued to goad her, he just _couldn't_ resist. "Don't you think you should be setting a better example?"

She turned to the beleaguered young woman standing behind her.

"I am so sorry about this, Cassie."

"Sorry about _what_? What's going on? Agent Lisbon, why did you call _him_ 'Jane'?" she asked, now completely baffled.

Lisbon pinched the bridge of her nose, and took a deep breath.

"Jane, you've met Cassie Dolinsky," she nodded to the girl. "She's been a big help to me the last couple days, taking care of a lot of accumulated complaints which otherwise would've eaten up my valuable time. As it is, thanks to her, I've been able to devote more energy to my _actual job_."

"Cassie," Teresa explained carefully, dreading the cataclysmic explosion sure to come. "This is my consultant, Patrick _Jane_," she explained with emphasis.

tbc..

* * *

><p>reviews are sunshine after an overcast day!<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N-Alright friends, almost finished! I believe I will post the last part (or 1 or 2 parts?) in about a week-and-a-half (hint hint). Nice little birthday tribute for him there:) (and treat for you). I have had enormous fun writing this, and I'll be a little sad to see it go. _

_A huge, HUGE, "Jane's ego"-sized thank you to: __**Sherlock Emrys, Joe Priest, Ma'echii, blackpink97, Sparxfly 93, kimmers44, Allegra Dante, ItsCherry, MyOwen, n3tRN, HelenAngusFlos, ykc.61377, and Ladyof13Sorrows**__, for the constant motivation. My, do I have a lot of fans._

_Also, to __**vanrigsby**__, one of my biggest cheerleaders! and to __**piratemonkey06**__, who said ch 3 was "hypersuperepicness with chocolate sprinkles," and that I am officially a "hypersuperepic writer". Wow. Maybe I should put that on my resume, send it to Bruno…_

_And to __**Guest**__, who "could not stop laughing". _

_I very much hope the rest of this story meets/exceeds all of your expectations, and causes even more hysterical laughter…_

x

…_from Ch 3_

"Jane, you've met Cassie Dolinsky," she nodded to the girl. "She's been a big help to me the last couple days, taking care of a lot of accumulated complaints which otherwise would've eaten up my valuable time. As it is, thanks to her, I've been able to devote more energy to my _actual __job_."

"Cassie," Teresa explained carefully, dreading the cataclysmic explosion sure to come. "This is my consultant, Patrick _Jane_," she explained with emphasis.

* * *

><p>Jane finally stood so that he and Cassie were eye to eye. He smoothed his hands over his vest to straighten it, then slid his hands into his pockets, and smiled brightly.<p>

"Hello, again."

Cassie paled in mortified comprehension, her blue eyes becoming saucers, then just as quickly her cheeks turned angry red, her eyes narrowing to slits.

"You…" she croaked, lifting an accusing, disbelieving finger at him. "_You're_ Jane? Jane's a _man_?" She looked at Lisbon in astonishment. Behind them, Rigsby tried, unsuccessfully, to suppress a coughing fit.

Lisbon, her jaw clenching, looked sharply at the man in question, her green eyes piercing through him like a fire-breathing dragon. The message was clear: _Talk…__**Now!**_

"Yes, I'm sorry for the confusion," he apologized sincerely, nodding. "I should have introduced myself in the kitchenette yesterday. I was just very taken aback to hear that Agent Lisbon was getting an assistant to help her with her paperwork," he explained. "I do apologize, truly," he repeated, nodding again, giving Cassie his best charming, 'contrite' look. A thought then occurred to him.

"If it would help," he offered, "please, feel free to shoot me; I'm sure any one of Lisbon's agents would readily lend you their gun." He pulled his hand from his pocket to wave it at the agents pretending to ignore them.

"Lisbon herself often finds punching me in the nose very useful, not that you would ever do that, Cassie; you're much too polite and well-mannered and courteous to resort to violence."

"Jane!" Lisbon hissed.

"Or, if neither of those choices works for you, you could, of course, always give me a piece of your mind."

Cassie just stared at him, the words of his last suggestion sending even more heat flooding into her cheeks as their somewhat one-sided conversation from the previous day came back to her…

x

"_I'm Cassie, Cassie Dolinsky," she held out her hand. The man reached across the table and shook it courteously._

"_Nice to meet you," he replied. "Welcome to CBI."_

_x  
><em>

"_I was hired as assistant to the team leader to split up her workload, which as you can see, is quite heavy," she chuckled. _

"_Well, that was very thoughtful of Agent Minelli," he commented diplomatically._

_x  
><em>

"_Most of what I've been assigned to handle has to do with one of Agent Lisbon's team, a very obnoxious, unpleasant woman from the looks of it."_

"_Oh, really?" the man prompted, curiosity lifting an eyebrow. "Who might that be?" he asked, lifting his tea to his lips and taking a sip._

"_I don't know, Jane something," she answered. He calmly continued sipping his tea, and when he said nothing else, she took that as an invitation to continue._

"_Seriously, I don't know how this woman __**got**__ or managed to __**keep**__ her job here, I've already read through twenty complaints against her, and those were just from the last three days!"_

"_Twenty, huh? Is that bad?" _

"_Listen to this," she flipped open one file. "'Jane was disrespectful and insulting towards wealthy husband of murdered woman'," she recited, then set it down. "'Jane tricked victim's sister into thinking _she_ was a suspect in his murder, simply to gauge reaction'…'Consultant Jane switched nearly a quarter million dollars of gangster's money'…'Jane provoked one sibling into turning in the other, again, to test reaction, knowing neither was actually guilty'…'Jane picked the lock of missing woman's front door even though it was a crime scene'…" she trailed off. _

"_Jane routinely lies to suspects, __**other **__**police**__, presumably for no other reason than a cheap thrill," Cassie shook her head. _

"_That sounds terribly childish, and unprofessional," he remarked in disapproval._

"_It's very childish," Cassie agreed. "Jane seems to take great delight in being, well, a 'prankster', or the 'class clown'; she steals from agents' desks, among other things, their phones, their food, and she sometimes switches the coffee bags with tea, which apparently no one but she drinks, just to watch peoples' reactions."_

"_Mm, mm, mm," the blonde man shook his head._

"_She messes with people's heads too. All the time."_

"_Really? How?"_

"_Seems she used to have a career as some sort of clairvoyant or psychic, and now she uses mind tricks, on her co-workers! State agents! Can you believe that?" _

"_Shameful," he said, taking another sip. "Unconscionable."_

"_Tell me about it. I can't believe this woman is able to keep her job as a consultant to __**law**_-_**enforcement**__. How she has managed to not get fired or…or __**shot**__ is…" she trailed off. _

"_A mystery," he supplied helpfully_.

"_Exactly. I promise you one thing, though: when I finally meet this Jane," Cassie said disdainfully, "I might just have to give her a piece of my mind," she declared. "I'll tell you something else, too; I don't care how smart she is, she is __**not**__ going to play any mind games with me or trick me! You can bet on that…"_

_x  
><em>

"_I might just have to give her a piece of my mind," she declared._

"_She is __**not**__ going to play any mind games with me or trick me!"_

"_You seem like a very bright, astute young woman. I'm sure you'll do fine here, Cassie."_

"_I might just have to give her a piece of my mind," she declared._

"_I'm sure you'll do fine here, Cassie. You seem like a very bright, astute young woman."_

"_She is __**not**__ going to play any mind games with me or trick me!"_

"_I might just have to give her a piece of my mind."_

"_I might just have to give her a piece of my mind…"_

"_I might just have to give her a piece of my mind!"_

"_I might just have to give-"_

_x  
><em>

"Cassie?" Lisbon said gently.

Cassie blinked, starting slightly at the sound of her name, and Lisbon's concerned, very wary look, realizing she herself must have looked like she was tempted to hurl either a barrage of insults, or yes, her fist, at the consultant for misleading her. She could feel everyone's eyes on her, waiting anxiously for her to respond, and, despite being in a room full of cops, she suspected no one would stop her if she tried to throttle him; in fact, they'd probably all have a sudden simultaneous urge to go get coffee.

She had to admit, it _would_ be satisfying to tear him a new one, maybe make like Salome, hand him his own head on a platter. Instead, she opted for something simpler.

"_Patrick_…Jane," she began slowly, looking him up and down, trying to reconcile the admittedly handsome, grey-suited, maturely-behaving man in front of her with the mental image of the childish, _im_mature, out-of-control, Tasmanian-devil 'woman' she'd been reading about for two days.

Cassie wasn't sure exactly _what_ she'd expected the consultant Jane to be like when they _did_ meet, but this…man…with the bright, sea-blue eyes and curly golden hair, who vaguely, briefly, brought to mind Michaelangelo's David, was totally _not_ _it!_

"Yes," he acknowledged.

She blinked again, dissolving the image and reminding herself _why_ she suddenly wanted to smack him into next week.

"Uh-huh. You know, I really thought, especially after finishing, I don't know, the _fortieth_ one, that people were exaggerating about you, that the CBI's consultant couldn't _possibly_ be as bad as all that. But nope. No, they hit the nail _right_ on the head!" she snarked, smiling sweetly.

She then turned on her heel and stormed out of the bullpen, not noticing or maybe just ignoring Rigsby's badly-stifled chuckle-snort and Van Pelt's head-shaking 'ouch' sigh. Only Cho watched impassively, his almond eyes showing no reaction.

"Cassie, wait! I'm so terribly sorry about this!" A dismayed Lisbon repeated to the young woman's retreating back. For her, the last two Jane-complaint-free days had been more stress and headache-free than anytime in the last two years, thanks to Cassie. Now, with the fallout from her consultant's latest stunt no doubt scaring her off, Lisbon feared that the girl might up and quit right then and there, taking more of those stress-free days with her.

"Don't worry about it, Ms. Lisbon, I don't blame _you_," Cassie replied as she walked away. "I'll be in my office if you need me." She disappeared around the corner.

A few seconds of awkward silence passed. No one spoke, the usual office din the only sounds heard, and the three agents continued to pretend to work, which only emphasized the tension in the air. Lisbon, fuming, slowly turned back to Jane, anger and desperation mangling her lovely face. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came.

"Lovely girl. Absolutely lovely. I definitely like her," Jane nodded in approval. "You've got a real keeper there, Lisbon, no doubt about it," he pointed down the hall. "Just take care you don't go and let her get away," he said, lowering himself to lie back down again.

"JANE!" she thundered, practically rattling the windows. "Don't even…" She stopped abruptly, the words sticking in her throat, and raised a halting finger at him. "You…I-" she stammered, waving her finger helplessly between then. She stood there, her mouth open, again no sound coming out, hand hanging impotently in the air. Finally, though, she found her voice.

"My office…_now!_" she bellowed, then stalked out of the room.

He sat up again halfway, supporting himself on an elbow, and sighed dramatically, as if in exasperation from the effort.

"Your office, _now_," he echoed obediently, rising fluidly again from the warm leather cushions and following casually across the room.

For a moment no one moved, no one spoke. Even the phones had the good sense not to ring. All office noise seemed to fade. It got so quiet, in fact, one could actually hear crickets chirping. Another minute passed. Then another. Finally Rigsby dared to look in the direction of her office, then back at his colleagues.

"Think he'll make it out of there alive?"

"Hard to say," Cho replied without looking up from his book. A beat, then he lifted his head, listening. "It's too quiet; she's not yelling, so either she's already forgiven him, or she's so angry she's completely lost the power of speech. Could go either way," he concluded, turning another page.

"Yeah, well, my money's on the boss this time," Rigsby announced. "This was big-time, over-the-top stupid; no way Jane is gonna be able to talk his butt out of this one!"

"Poor Cassie," Van Pelt remarked, grimacing. "I can only imagine how awkward that must have been, meeting Jane like that, thinking Jane was someone else entirely." She shook her head. "And why _did_ Jane purposefully mislead her like that? It's not like she was a suspect or someone brought in for questioning; she's the boss's assistant."

"Just Jane being Jane," Cho answered.

Another minute of silence. Van Pelt went back to work on her laptop. Cho continued his book.

"Oh man," Rigsby snickered, looking again towards Lisbon's office. "What I wouldn't give to be a fly on the wall in there right now!" When there were no replies from the other two, he looked back at them. "Oh, come on. Aren't you guys even the least bit curious?" he challenged, grinning like a teenage girl at a slumber party.

"No," Cho answered flatly, turning another page.

Grace blushed guiltily. "Yeah, I kind of am," she admitted, smiling self-consciously at being bitten by Rigsby's infectious gossip-bug.

Cho just sighed and continued reading, mentally calculating how much Rigsby was gonna owe him later.

* * *

><p>Jane could see her pacing her office even before he stepped through the door. She was radiating so much anger he could practically smell it, much like the lemon-y scented righteous anger he'd picked up from the murdered broker's disgruntled co-worker during his bomb-induced blindness. He still remembered clearly how she'd scoffed at his, well, excellent identification of the different aromas of anger.<p>

The scent emanating from her at the moment was close to sulfurous, or cheap, badly made cigars, an acrid, volcanic smell. He wrinkled his nose slightly, cleared his throat softly as the door swung shut behind him with a muted thud.

She stalked back and forth, her petite form a tight mass of simmering fury. Her arms were pulled back, elbows bent, her hands backward at her hips, and she glared briefly at him before looking away again in disgust. She was muttering none too quietly under her breath; he could make out the odd "infantile ass", and "asinine stunt", and "douchebag", and a few words he'd never even heard before, certainly never from his ever-sweet-spoken, honey-voiced Lisbon.

He slid his hands casually into his jacket pockets, and waited for her to address him or tire herself out, making sure he stayed out of her way. When she looked at him again, he grinned brightly.

"Lisbon, are you doing something different with your hair? Because I must say, today it looks especially-" he started, but she rounded on him.

"Shut up, Jane," she growled, cutting him off.

He frowned in confusion. "Something wrong, my dear?"

She stopped pacing, and looked at him in disbelief.

"Are you serious?"

"Absolutely. Are you trimming it differently?" He gestured at his own shoulders to indicate hers. "You've had the fringe for a while, so that's not it," he said, as if to himself, then snapped his fingers. "You're using a new highlighter; a brighter one, to better pick up the sun. An excellent choice, Lisbon, really," he said sincerely, smiling. "It's quite lovely on you."

She glanced quickly down at her hair, then back at him, fleeting surprise joining her disbelief. His grin widened, and she hastened to bring them back to her point.

"Wha-No! I meant…are you seriously asking me _what's_ _wrong_?" she asked, shaking her head slowly, her voice dangerously low. "What the hell _was_ _that?_" she exploded.

"What the hell was what?" he repeated, the picture of ignorance.

Her green eyes flashed. "Do _not_ play dumb with me, Jane; I am not a game you want to play right now. What the hell just happened out there?"

"Oh!" he chuckled in comprehension. "Uh, well, you threatened to assault me with a deadly weapon, and then you introduced your new assistant…" He moved toward the couch, still carefully avoiding her.

"Is that _all_?"

He settled comfortably on the plush cushions, crossing his legs and draping one arm across the back. He paused for a second.

"Yes. No. I meant what I said about your new right-hand; Cassie is indeed a treasure, an ideal partner-in-crime. The perfect paper-pusher," he gushed, lifting his hand in an 'a-ok'.

"Oh, sheepdip!" she retorted, and moved to loom over him, her normally diminutive form oddly intimidating.

"Look at my face, Jane," she directed, lifting her fingers to her jaw, her other hand now hanging at her side. "Just _ten_ _minutes_ ago, I was relaxed, I felt good; there was no throbbing pain behind my eyes, no tension in my neck or shoulders. Know what I was doing? I was looking at a case file for a case we're about to close. I was _not_," her voice went up a notch, "pouring over yet another complaint against _you_!"

Her voice softened. "And I was able to stop, and stretch, I mean a good, full, cleansing stretch. And it felt _great_! Then Cassie came by with some complaints for me to sign, and we started chatting."

Jane could tell from Lisbon's falsely-calm, conspiratorial tone and angry stance that she was about to lower the boom on him about something big and unpleasant, and apparently his fault.

"I asked her how everything was going; she said everything was going fine, that my agents were being professional and courteous to her." A beat, then her voice began to rise again, higher and higher.

"Then she asked if my consultant had a desk in the bullpen like the rest of my agents, or if _she_ worked somewhere else, or out of _her_ home!" Lisbon was pretty much yelling now.

Ooohhhhh. No wonder she was so upset.

His normally ever-level-headed Lisbon was pacing again, gesticulating wildly, her cheeks now in full bloom, her dark hair whipping around like a living thing. But it was her eyes that now held him in thrall; the lovely soft mint had darkened to shamrock as the Irish in her reared its head.

He opened his mouth to speak, but she was in front of him again.

"Look at me _now_!" she hollered, lifting both hands to her face. "Look at what you and your latest stunt have done to me! I shouldn't be surprised; I should've known that more than two relaxing, stress-free days was probably too much to ask for. I hope you're happy, Jane; your childish need to constantly mess with and confuse people has finally driven me over the edge!"

He gasped, a wounded look coming over his face.

"W… I'd hardly say _happy_…" he countered, his tone deeply hurt.

She dropped her arms back to her sides.

"I want to know exactly what happened in the break room yesterday," she demanded, only slightly calmer now. "How is it that Cassie could have met you, and yet still have no idea who you were? Even _you_ couldn't have screwed that up! You delight in introducing yourself to people; it's usually the first thing out of your mouth: 'Hi, I'm Patrick', 'Hello, my name's Patrick', 'Hi, Patrick Jane, nice to meet you.' So what I wanna know is, how is it my assistant thought you were _a woman!_" She was back to yelling again.

tbc…

* * *

><p>reviews are like Mentalist Marathons on TNT…keep 'em coming!<p> 


	5. Chapter 5 and Epilogue

_Okay, just a couple of quick notes: _

_first, I know I said I'd post this on Simon Baker's birthday, and I had honestly thought it would be ready by then, but, it wasn't. So instead of posting this for his b-day, I'll post it, for **all of you**, and just dedicate it to him! _

_second, I need all of your help. I began **The Call that Changes Everything** several months ago, and am still getting responses for it (**thank you!**), but as of right now, I have no idea how to continue it! To be honest I never really thought past those two chapters, so if anyone has **any suggestions** as to how I can move forward, please let me know! I know there's a good story there, I just need some help.  
><em>

_now, the final two chapters. thank you, **everyone**, who has commented, followed, 'favorited', and 'alerted' this story. I can't tell you the thrill I get whenever I get a little nibble!_

* * *

><p>"…is it my assistant thought you were <em>a woman!<em>"

Lisbon's barely-muffled yelling had reached her agents' ears about five minutes after Jane disappeared into her office, starting with "what the hell _was_ _that?!_", then "complaint against _you!_", each outburst louder and angrier than the last. In the bullpen, the three agents continued to work while trying to ignore the glaring elephant in the room.

Or rather, they tried to at least _fake_ working. No one had even moved from their desk; Rigsby was holding his phone to his ear, pantomiming talking and doodling on a notepad, Grace sat staring at her laptop, her fingers just sitting on the keys, while Cho hadn't turned a page in his book for more than six minutes.

Grace winced at the latest outburst. Rigsby chuckled in childish delight.

"Oh-hohohoh! Forget being a fly on the wall; we've got front-row seats right here! Oh, come on, Van Pelt," he replied defensively at Grace's mildly chiding look. "Don't be such a stick in the mud. It's not like this is Jane's first trip to the principal's office."

She directed her questioning gaze at Cho, who despite feeling her eyes on him, didn't even look up.

"He brought this on himself."

She frowned, and returned her attention to her screen. Maybe the guys were right; maybe Jane did have this coming. She was conflicted; she did like Jane, for the most part, but she was also fond of Cassie.

After a moment, she looked up again, meeting her colleagues' eyes, and smiled hopefully.

"Hey," Rigsby murmured. "Listen," he observed gratefully, as the normal bullpen noise softly resumed.

Cho also noticed, again raising his eyes from his book.

"Maybe she's finally yelled out. Maybe he apologized."

"…are you _freaking_ _KIDDING_ _ME?!_"

This time Rigsby's face fell. Grace closed her eyes, shook her head.

"Guess not," Cho muttered.

* * *

><p>"Are you <em>freaking<em> _KIDDING_ _ME?!_"

Jane leaned back slightly deeper against the couch, unconsciously leaning away from Lisbon's angry onslaught, his expression one of wide-eyed disbelief. He then sighed in exasperation at the woman's hysterics; she really was blowing this whole thing out of proportion. The next time she paused for breath, he saw his chance, and jumped in.

"Lisbon my dear, there's no need to carry on so; I'm sitting right here." He glanced briefly out into the bullpen, confirming what he suspected he'd see; the others still badly fake-working. "Besides, you don't want to scare the kids, do you?"

"You'd better have a _damn_ good reason for this one," she hissed. "Or I'm gonna get a _lot_ louder."

He studied her for a few seconds to determine the seriousness of her threat. When her eyes never wavered from his, he had two urgent needs: to flee, and a hot cup of tea. He immediately sprang from the couch.

"I really could use a cup of tea right now, Lisbon. Can I bring you a coffee? You look like you need a coffee. I'll even bring you a donut, my treat-"

"First explain what the hell you mean by 'you _never_ _actually_ _introduced_ yourself'?" she wailed. Her anger was gone though, replaced by sheer weariness.

He stopped just in front of the door, and turned slowly. He slid his hands into his jacket pockets.

"It, uh, it…never came up. My name."

Confusion then joined weariness.

"W-what does that mean?"

Jane groaned softly, the whole conversation suddenly becoming tiresome and unpleasant.

"We met in the break room, she told me she was your new assistant, said 'I'm Cassie Dolinsky'…" he trailed off.

Suspicion joined its siblings, and grew rapidly. She eyed him hard.

"And what did _you_ say? What were your _exact_ _words_?"

He hesitated for a second, knowing his answer would only lead to more unpleasantness. Perhaps more yelling. Hmmm. He might have to bring her two donuts.

"I said 'Nice to meet you, welcome to CBI'," he replied innocently.

For several seconds she just stared at him, her expression shifting slowly from confusion, to comprehension, to horror, then finally to defeat. Her eyes slid closed and her head fell forward, shielding her face from his view. She then turned and walked slowly behind her desk, letting her head fall back so her face was angled to the ceiling, all the while, muttering and grumbling to herself.

"…makes perfect sense…of course, should've figured…guessed…(unintelligible)…of all…stupid…(unintelligible)…vest-wearing jerk…my life miser…"

He glanced down, frowning slightly at her under-the-breath disparagement of his attire. It happened to be his favorite suit.

She sank into her chair, falling forward with a soft whimper, her dark head landing with a thud on her folded arms.

Shaking her bent head, Lisbon replayed in her mind's ear that pen-cracking, awkward-as-hell moment with Cassie, not an _hour_ ago, when she went from relaxed and de-stressed to livid in the blink of an eye…

x

"_Oh, you mean Jane?"_

_Their eyes met in shared understanding at the name's mention. _

"_Well, no. I mean, that is, we haven't met yet, which is weird; I thought I would have by now. Does she not have a desk in the office along with the other agents? Does she work out __of the office?"_

_x  
><em>

Moaning, she lifted her head off her arms, but then bent her elbows and hid her face in her palms, never looking at Jane, who was still standing by the door, watching her.

After a few seconds, she began to tremble; slightly at first, then harder until her whole upper body was shaking, and she was breathing in sharp, shallow, heaving gasps.

Jane, hands still in his pockets, carefully studied her; shoulders hunched over, slim frame trembling, face in her hands, head shaking slowly back and forth. But the fury from before was gone; in fact, he'd be willing to bet she wasn't even irritated anymore, that the whole keeping-her-face-covered thing was simply for show.

Oh, yeah, he could tell, she was no longer angry at him, but she couldn't let _him_ know that and let him think he was off the hook. Perfectly understandable. She had '_rules'_ to follow. A strict, no-nonsense, hard-nosed reputation to keep.

Finally, she pulled her hands from her face and placed them, palms clasped together, on her desk, and sat up straight.

Now that Jane could clearly see her face, his own expression brightened. He had guessed correctly, of course, that her anger had dissipated, but the color was still high in her cheeks, she was still trembling ever so slightly, and her bright eyes held something new in their green depths.

She'd been laughing. Still was, judging by the smirk on her lips, though she was trying unsuccessfully to stifle it.

Yep, Grumpy was gone. Lovely Lisbon was back.

"Okay," she gasped, "I think I'm starting to understand what happened. In fact," she started laughing again, "yeah, uh-huh, it all makes sense now," she finished, almost to herself.

"Really?" he smiled, intrigued.

She nodded and snorted slightly, clearly trying to contain more laughter.

"Well, by all means, my dear," he said, sitting down in one of the chairs in front of her desk. "Don't keep me in suspense," he urged.

She regarded him amusedly through the tears in her eyes. For the first time since she'd known him, Jane was sitting still, waiting patiently, his expression curious, eager almost, to hear her theory on something. She wanted so much to savor this moment; she doubted she'd ever have another one like it.

"Alright," she chuckled. "But first…"

"Yes?"

Her smirk deepened. "I'll take that coffee now. And the donut."

x

"Okay, I've been going back over all of it, and here's what I think happened: yesterday after lunch, you saw me working, but something was different; I was more relaxed, not all hunched over and 'grumpy', as you like to say, and a bunch of files were missing from my desk. When I seemed much more at ease, it really threw you for a loop, especially when I said I wasn't doing Jane-complaints. Not something _you_ are used to, I'm sure," she quipped, giving him her best sympathetic look.

"_So_, no doubt terribly unsettled, you darted off to the kitchenette to hide in a cup of tea, not knowing that Minelli had hired Cassie to handle all that crap for me. That must have been so discomfiting for you Jane," she cooed, "_irksome_, even, knowing you were missing something, one little piece to a tiny puzzle," she taunted, lifting her hand with the thumb and forefinger barely touching.

Jane knew now that Lisbon was enjoying this, her kind tone and expression belying her glee over her momentary 'victory'. And so far, she was right. For once, in a rare instance, Lisbon had one on him.

His eager smile from earlier faded a fraction, and he had to keep his expression curious, but neutral. A short-lived instance, to be sure.

"And Cassie was there," Lisbon continued. "No doubt plowing through the piles and piles of complaints. You struck up a conversation with her, she told you who she was and why she'd been hired-to handle all the complaints against my consultant, an arrogant, obnoxious, punch-worthy pest named _Jane_-and _that's_ when it slid into place. But for some un-godly reason you kept quiet, just let her keep talking, not knowing of course that you…" she trailed off.

She paused, studying _him_ to gauge her accuracy, and tilted her head knowingly.

"I'll even bet you let her do most of the talking."

For an instant, his eyes flickered and his lips twitched. Just for an instant, but enough.

"I knew it!" she exclaimed, no longer laughing, but not yelling either. "You knew she was my new assistant, but you…the man who loves to run his mouth just to poke people, _this_ time you didn't say anything. And here we are."

His smile widened.

"Yes, here we are. Very impressive, Lisbon, excellently deduced. I see your time spent working with me has definitely sharpened your skills."

"Ha ha," she muttered dryly. "What I don't get is why. You had your fun, played your mentalist tricks on an innocent, unsuspecting girl. Why let it continue?"

He shrugged in an innocent, deflecting "eh".

"What was in it for you? I mean, she's here to reduce _my_ workload, make at least _that_ part of my job nominally easier." She sighed softly. "I can't stop you from pulling half the crap you do, Jane, despite my best efforts, I know that, but now," she smiled softly, her eyes brightening, illuminating her whole face, "I won't have to spend hours dealing with the mess your tricks create, so I'll be a lot less stressed, I won't feel the need to yell at you as much, or punch you, or throw things," she said. "This is a good thing; things'll be a lot calmer around here now."

Jane ignored the tiny clench of disappointment that pinched his chest at her joyful anticipation of her orderly, totally professional…_dull_-as-_dirt_ unit, keeping his bright smile firmly in place, and nodding in agreement.

"Yes, absolutely, a very good thing. Straight, businesslike, spic-and-span. Can't wait!" he beamed, and rose from the chair to return to his leather couch.

Lisbon watched him as he got up.

"Hold it! Stop!" she ordered.

He turned halfway, his hand already on the door handle.

"Was there something else, my dear? 'Cause my couch is calling…" he said sounding nonchalant, almost bored.

"Yeah. That was way too easy. What are you-?" She blinked, as realization dawned.

"That's it isn't it? You don't want me to have less stress, or to not know what you're up to, do you? For whatever twisted reasons you just can't stand the idea of me not being constantly tied in knots over your crazy schemes! And what better way to get me back to _your_ idea of 'normal' than to screw with some poor girl's head? Then she'd quit, all the complaints would come back to my desk, and then it's back to 'grumpy, pencil-throwing, couch-kicking Lisbon'. Does that about sum it up?"

Jane raised his hand to his heart, his expression pained.

"Lisbon, I am shocked. I-I am _hurt_ that you actually think I would want that."

Lisbon rolled her eyes. "Oh, really?"

"Yes. In fact, I don't think I've ever felt so insulted."

"Yeah, right," she scoffed.

"I'm serious," he said as he sat down in front of her desk, still looking aggrieved. "I'm disappointed in you, Lisbon. I wouldn't have thought you, of _all_ people-"

"Alright, that's enough," she cut him off, a small smile playing on her lips.

He noticed, of course, and his injured look disappeared instantly, replaced by his usual cocky, slightly amused grin.

"Okay," Lisbon said grudgingly, "obviously I'm not as mad as I was before," she began.

He shrugged. "Meh, you were never mad, not really."

"Yes, I was."

"No you weren't," he quickly, confidently retorted.

"Yes, I _was_," she growled. When he opened his mouth to come back, she reached for the nearest heavy object on her desk.

"Okay, okay," he chuckled in surrender, secretly enjoying this.

"As I was saying, I'm not mad anymore. Well, not _as_ mad; a little, but I just chalk it up to you being, well…_you_."

He grinned wider and shrugged as if she'd just paid him a great compliment.

"The reason for that, and why I might seem so okay about it now, is because this thing is not over yet; now, you get to apologize to Cassie."

"I did apologize."

"I'm not talking about that half-assed, insincere, bogus performance you just gave."

"'Insincere'? How do _you_ know it wasn't sincere? It _wasn't_ sincere, not completely, but there's no way _you_ could know that."

"Please. Like you said, my time spent working with you _has_ sharpened my skills; now I know Jane bs when I see it. I don't care how or where you do it; over lunch or a cup of coffee, or in your case, tea, but you are going to apologize to her, fully and sincerely. Oh, and while you're at it, do what you should have done in the first place: properly introduce yourself_._"

"Y'know, I'd love to accommodate you, Lisbon, but," he shook his head in distaste, "apologizing, mending fences, I'm really not good with all that diplomatic nonsense. That, my dear, is your area of expertise."

"Jane, either you apologize to Cassie, or if-slash-when she quits, you can leave too. Yes, that's right; if she leaves, you're fired. And don't think I'm bluffing," she challenged at his unconcerned look. "Your case-closing skills notwithstanding, if I have to choose between you and her, guess who wins?"

Jane assessed her unwavering gaze. She wasn't serious; he knew _she_ knew he was much too valuable to the CBI and the team, and considering his history she'd never toss him out for something that was, let's face it, quite trivial. A non-issue. A pittance. A speck. Less than a speck.

Nah, she wouldn't kick him out. He was certain of it. About ninety-eight percent sure. Maybe ninety-seven-point-five.

She was still sitting there, her green eyes boring into his.

Okay, ninety-five-point-eight percent.

Maybe this one time he could make an exception, err on the side of caution; after all he certainly didn't want Mount St. Lisbon to erupt again.

His grin returned, carefree as ever.

"Well, I tell you what, Lisbon," he began, "since I've enjoyed our enlightening little pow-wow so much, as always, I'll absolutely think about what you've said," he answered indulgently. "But right now, I'm _dyin'_ for a cup of tea and my couch," he finished as he rose again and headed for the door.

Her glare told him she wasn't buying any of it.

"I'm serious Jane. Fix this, or else!" she yelled at his back as the door swung shut behind him.

* * *

><p>Sipping from his treasured blue teacup, Jane strolled casually back into the bullpen, perfectly aware that three pairs of eyes were surreptitiously watching him. His lips curled in amusement at their valiant but poor attempts to appear dutifully engaged. He knew better: Rigsby was frenetically scribbling random doodles in his little notebook; van Pelt, ever the vigilant researcher, was currently checking Facebook; only Cho might have passed for absorbed in his novel, but Jane could easily tell that the Asian man had not turned more than three or four pages since he'd gone into Lisbon's office. Very poor progress for Cho.<p>

Jane counted the seconds until they all 'noticed' him and inquired, out of concern for him of course, about what happened. Understandable, and predictable, since there had been some yelling at first. He sat down comfortably on his couch, and continued to enjoy his tasty, steaming hug-in-a-cup.

Three…two…one…

"Jane?"

Ah, Grace. Of course. The kind-hearted, compassionate, still slightly-soft-ish newbie. Their group's _other_ mother-hen.

"Hmm?"

"Are you ok?" she asked gently.

"Right as rain," he replied.

"Oh, come on man," Rigsby piped up, leaning eagerly over his desk. "We heard the yelling. Spill. Tell us what happened in there."

Oh, poor Rigsby. Poor bored, love-lorn, starved-for-any-real-excitement Rigsby.

Jane couldn't resist messing with him. Just a smidge.

"There was yelling?"

"Yeah. Dude, we all heard it!"

"Really?" he asked innocently.

"The whole floor heard it," Cho finally added.

"Huh," Jane feigned surprise.

"C'mon, Jane. Just tell us!" Rigsby pleaded.

"Alright, alright." Jane took a deep breath and let it out. "Lisbon and I had a very nice, very mutually expressive chat," he said nonchalantly, then shrugged slightly.

"Okay, yes, it did briefly get a bit enlivened, you all know how Lisbon can get," he smiled affectionately, "but on the whole I found it quite enjoyable. Very stimulating," he nodded.

"Fine, don't tell us," Rigsby pouted, and leaned back in his chair. Cho and van Pelt also each lost interest and returned to their respective 'business'.

Jane grinned, then set his cup and saucer down on the armrest of the couch, stretched his arms over his head, and lay out fully on the leather cushions, lacing his fingers behind his head, exhaling softly, contentedly, as the office hum returned to normal.

Right where he'd started. Full circle.

Not a minute later Lisbon came bounding into the bullpen.

"Okay, people, I just got a call. Grab your stuff, we'll meet downstairs in five." And then she was gone.

* * *

><p>Epilogue<p>

After the team returned with their newest case, Jane retrieved his cup from his couch. Stepping into the kitchen, he once again saw Cassie sitting at a table. Pausing momentarily, he wondered if the odd sensation passing over him was déjà vu, but dismissed it as fanciful nonsense. No such thing. No more than psychics, talking to the dead, fortune telling, or coincidences.

He shook it off and went to fill the pot. Turning, he caught Cassie's eye as she looked up. He smiled pleasantly, taking no offense at her disdainful eye-roll. Picking up his tea, he again went to her table.

"Hello. Mind if I sit here?"

"I suppose not," she replied coolly.

He sat, and blew gently on his tea.

She tried to ignore him, to go back to work, but soon gave it up.

"Did you come in here to mess with me again? Maybe toy with me some _more_?" she demanded, picking up her coffee.

He chuckled. "No, not at all. As a matter of fact, I came to apologize."

She froze, the cup hovering at her lips. She set it back down.

"You? You came to apologize?" she asked, her tone equal parts wonder and skeptical. She smiled. "How did Agent Lisbon get you to do that? Because I know you wouldn't on your own; I _have_ been reading in-depth about you for two days."

"No, no. This isn't coming from her," he lied. "I had a moment to think on what I did, and, while that kind of thing might be ok with suspects and dishonest politicians and such, _you_ were innocent. Here to help Lisbon. So I am here, of my own free will, to do so," he reassured her, looking her straight in the eyes.

At that, she sat up a fraction straighter, and her expression became more receptive.

"I am sorry for misleading you, Cassie, for letting you think Jane was someone else, and for not telling you the truth." A beat. "Oh, also, to properly introduce myself."

"Really? Well then, please," she prompted eagerly.

Instead, however, he looked at the neatly stacked files arranged on the table.

"What's all this? They're not case files; you're too young to be an agent, and I'd know if we had any new people."

For a moment, Cassie looked at him bewildered, but then she saw the twinkle in his eyes, despite his straight face.

"Um, no, you're right, they're not case files, and I'm not a new agent," she replied, playing along. "I'm the new assistant to the head of the Serious Crimes Unit, Agent Lisbon. Agent Minelli hired me to take care of some of her extra workload. These are complaints against one of her people, someone named Jane."

"Oh," he remarked, interested.

"I'm Cassie. Cassie Dolinsky." She held out her hand. Jane reached across the table and shook it courteously.

"Nice to meet you Cassie," he replied. "Welcome to CBI. I'm Patrick Jane."

She smiled brightly, satisfied. "Nice to meet _you_ … _Patrick_ Jane."

* * *

><p>Thanks so much for finishing this with me! I really hope you all enjoyed it. Let me know please-reviews are like a big bag of Hershey's Nuggets!<p> 


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